


Colors

by thisisnttheend



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-18 17:26:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9395663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisnttheend/pseuds/thisisnttheend
Summary: a story based on colors (stripped) by halseyORa story where an angel named simon comes down to earth to help a struggling boy named roger





	1. Introduction

_ “Art is not what I create. What I create is chaos.” - Halsey _

 

Simon looked at the small clippings that he had managed to save from his shredded journal. It had contained all of his hopes and dreams, but it seemed as if the fate of them fell along with his writing.

As he tried to piece back together the pieces to form the words that he lost, he began to cry. He cried not for himself, but for Roger. The chaos he created was so beautiful, it could be mistaken for art. He cried for the little faith he had in that humans could be innately good, and he cried because he knew Roger would never experience the spiritual awakening Simon received every time they touched.

However, he could not put the idea that Roger was art behind him. Simon loved to think of things as colors. Sorenity was pastel lavender and deep forest green. When he was with the other, he was red. Roger was dark blue. He would always be blue. Simon couldn’t explain it; he simply felt it everywhere in his boy. The colors mixed and swirled in his heart, soul, and mind. They came out in the few words that he did speak.

Roger didn’t mean to hurt him. He knew that much. Sometimes, he just didn’t understand the way Simon understood and explained things. Roger never touched him the terrible way that Jack touched Ralph. Roger was more discreet. He would make cryptic statements and simple changes in the way he acted. Tearing apart Simon’s journal was just one of those small forms of revenge.

Simon’s memories were starting to fade and be replaced with human memories now that his notes were torn. Most of these were with Roger. He was skeptical about this mission from the start, as God had explained what a difficulty the other would be, but the boy was one of God’s best angels.

However, ventures to the human world were extremely dangerous regardless. Sadness of the word was terribly contagious to angels and weighed a lot more than it did for man. If an angel began to succumb to the weight of the world, he or she would become a fallen angel. God could abandon them, but sometimes he chose to forgive. If an angel fell in love with a sinner, he was forgotten. He was to chose from the love of the Lord or man.

God had chosen Simon to come down to help the boy named Roger. He was warned to be cautious. Roger had lost himself in sin. He was followed by a cloud of illegal marijuana and pain and in a constant battle between pride and lust. It was God’s instruction to make the boy experience love, which was why the mission required a professional. He couldn’t give into the deadly sins.

The problem was, Roger had tore Simon’s notes and memories into shreds, and Simon was feeling the colors in him begin to fade. He was becoming more mortal each and every day. The other was just as bad as everyone had made him out to be, but Simon’s heart swelled. He didn’t know that he was even capable of feeling this way. Now, of course, he felt love, as God said to love thy neighbor, but he didn’t love the boy as a neighbor; he craved a relationship with him the way that he craved God.


	2. Pride

Pride.

 

Simon first landed on Earth early morning on a Sunday. He remembered this because God always sent him to missions on Sunday’s for good luck. He looked much different as a human. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and his skin was a moderate shade of tan. The boy’s first thought was to wonder how many human years he looked, as he hadn’t thought much about it in sometime. He knew that he must be of similar age to Roger, who was about sixteen at the time.

He followed the simple instructions he was given, as God had been thoughtful enough to plan out ahead for him. The dark-haired boy entered a building, and the shine lithium surrounded him. Simon wasn’t used to feeling so surrounded, so trapped in an enclosed space where he wasn’t free to roam and wander. Suddenly, his eyes locked with another, and he knew. This was the boy that he was supposed to be watching over.

Roger had dark hair that was slightly longer than Simon’s, and instead of a faded green, his eyes were brown and rich. He was quiet as he walked down the hall, but he held his head like a hero. He didn’t carry a bag like everyone else around him, and he had no books clutched to his chest. Simon debated whether he was to go speak to him or to get all of things for what had been described as a “class”.

He decided to go grab his things before scurrying around to find out where the boy had gone to escape him, even though Roger didn’t know that he existed yet. The first bell rang, but Simon excused himself from class as soon as he could. The halls were shimmery and red. Simon shuddered. There was nowhere for him to go when he had no idea where anything was. He pushed the door open to the boy’s restroom and he sighed in concern.

Simon scrunched his nose. The room had a peculiar scent to it. Smoke floated out from the corner, and the boy almost thought that the building was on fire. He turned to leave, but he was stopped by a voice. “Hi, pretty boy,” a boy hummed with a smirk in his voice. The angel froze and slowly turned around to see who had spoken. Green eyes met brown. Roger.

“Hello,” Simon replied, his eyes wide and full of naive innocence. He reached back to touch his wings as he sometimes did when he was nervous, but he was momentarily shocked to find that there was nothing there. The other didn’t seem to notice, and he laughed to himself.

“Want a puff?” He asked as he raised an eyebrow. Simon shook his head uncontrollably, making Roger begin to laugh even more. “Don’t worry, you won’t get caught. Even if you did, everyone knows who I am, pretty boy. They aren’t going to screw around.”

Simon scoffed at his pride. Hate the sin, not the sinner, he reminded himself as he licked his lips. He shook his head again. “I was looking for you,” he answered.

Roger looked up from the cigarette in his head, putting it out and leaving it in the sink. “You’re the boy that Jack was talking about? Wow, usually the boy has shitty taste,” he smirked, a hint of laughter still in his voice.

Simon scrunched up his face in confusion. He didn’t even know who Jack was, but he decided to go along with it for the sake of ease. “What did he tell you about me?” God could have placed memories in his mind, ones that never even existed. Simon wondered what that power would be like, but he didn’t think he could ever handle it himself. 

“He said that there was a cute boy in his math class that would be easy to play games with,” Roger responded bluntly. The angel wondered what type of games that he could be referring to. He didn’t remember the last time that he had played any games.

“I like games,” Simon grinned. 

“Then let’s play some,” Roger responded as he walked out of the bathroom to finally return to class. “See you later, pretty boy.”

Simon didn’t move at first after he had left. His thoughts were too focused on the nickname that he supposed had become his now. Something about the way Roger said it gave him chills every time. He brushed off to the side. He had to think about how this mission could be accomplished. Something told him that he had done what he had to do, but he had no idea what he had gotten himself into this time. His naiveness got him into trouble at times, and something told him that Roger and he didn’t want to play the same type of games. 

Simon clutched onto his books and went back to class, and the teacher even mention how long that he had been gone. He questioned the learning intent of these classes, but he wasn’t here to learn. He was here to help Roger. He took a seat in his desk, opening up his journal and reading through his notes and memories of heaven and why he was here. He couldn’t forget where he came from. His words flowed like melted gold from his hands to the papers as he added things that had happened throughout that day as well.

The bell rang again, and he gathered his books, shoving them into his messenger bag. As he lifted his head up, his hair fell into his face, and green met brown again. They stared for a few moments, their thoughts intertwining. Roger got the strange feeling that Simon knew something he didn’t. He didn’t care. He had the upper hand. As Simon walked out of his class, a piece of paper was shoved into his hand, and he parted his lips to say something. Nothing came out. He opened it, and inside, an address and phone number was scribbled, along with a short note.

_ Tonight at six. See you then, pretty boy. _


	3. Lust

Simon gathered his items from his locker, trying to decide where he was going until six o’clock when he was meant to travel to Roger’s house. He grabbed his phone from his coat pocket. The boy had been pressing buttons on it and trying to figure out how the device worked all day now. For the time being, he didn’t have home to reside in or even basic necessities, so soon he knew that he would be inbetween a rock and a hard place.

He sat on a bench in a park, curling in on himself. He watched people pass by, and sometimes when they got close enough, he could hear snippets of their thoughts. He would like to think that people were generally good, but with the things that he heard on Earth, he wasn’t completely sure anymore. His green eyes were growing heavily. Things like sleeping and eating were still foreign to him. He was sure that he’d never grown used to them. He pressed the button on his phone, ignoring the urge to rest and the grumbling of his stomach. 5:45 pm.

Silently, he gathered his school bag and the piece of paper with the necessary information scribbled on it. He licked his lips, watching his shoes hit the concrete as he wandered down the sidewalk, trying to find Roger’s home. Simon dropped his bag behind a tree after he had grabbed his phone and prayed his things would be there when he returned. The boy inhaled deeply.

The house was of average size, and it was extremely cosy and quaint. The neighborhood was practically silent. It seemed like the perfect place to grow up. How someone could become like Roger in a place like this was inconceivable to Simon. He gently tapped the door with his fist. The door snapped open, revealing a disgruntled Roger.

His hair was sticking up in random places. He had no shirt on, only a grey pair of sweatpants-- oh goodness, Simon couldn’t look. He risked the urge to close his widened eyes. “Hi, pretty boy,” Roger greeted with a grin. Simon smiled weakly. Before he knew it, he was being lead to the boy’s bedroom. “Listen, I know that you haven’t done this before, I can tell, but don’t worry, princess, I’ll be careful with you.” Roger licked his lips. He sat on the edge of the bed before leading the green-eyed boy to the place he was meant to stand.

Simon felt the other’s eyes like bullets. The way he looked at him made his head feel like it was full of cotton balls, and he yearned to find out what he would do next. Roger’s hands reached out for him, and they lingered, before yanking off the shorter boy’s shirt. His lips moved down to his neck. Simon couldn’t help but let a soft whimper leave his lips. His head was so fuzzy, he couldn’t think a thing. More, more, more. He had never felt anything with such bold intensity.

Simon. Don’t do this. Don’t give into lust. The voice hit him, and as it faded away, he was brought back to reality. He already was beginning to lose himself. He tilted his head back a bit. “Roger, I can’t,” he murmured. Roger looked up at him with deep brown eyes.

“You don’t need to be afraid, baby.”

Simon tried his best to think of an excuse with half a brain. “I’m not ready, please,” he whispered as his eyes fluttered open. Green met brown. 

Roger gave him a small nod. He licked his lips, backing away and looking for a shirt to pull over himself. He had to have the smaller boy, but he was going to be nice for the time being. The taller boy helped to put on Simon’s shirt back over his head, and he pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Don’t worry,” he sighed. He was more important to him. He was going to have that boy; he was the light. He knew little about Simon, but he had some cruel intentions.

Simon inhaled deeply to catch his breath. “Roger,” he stated.

“Simon,” the other repeated. The angel blinked a few times. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“You remind me of a dark blue, like sapphire, maybe,” Simon explained, staring at him as a goofy grin came to his face. Roger stared at him with narrowed eyes. 

“What the hell does that mean?”

Simon flinched at his terminology. “I don’t know, I just feel it. You’re sapphire, that’s just it.” The brown eyed boy had to take this in before he could even think of how to respond. Nothing came to him, so he didn’t try to filter himself.

“That’s cute, pretty boy,” he said. He grinned to himself and rolled his eyes. Simon noticed his smile and returned it.

“Do you want to hold hands?” Roger rolled his eyes again but laced their fingers together.

“I feel like a bloody idiot.”

“Good.”

That night Simon found that he was to stay alone in an empty apartment for the duration of his quest. He had been in worse conditions, so he really didn’t mind all that much. He sat down on the floor with some grapes, shivering from the cold. It was better than being outside, he supposed. He was in the body of a teenager, but his soul was hundreds of years old. His brain was full of intricate thoughts that he could never share. He couldn’t help but think that Roger would never quite understand him. He irritably shook himself. He didn’t have to. After the mission was over, Simon would never hear or see from the other again.

Simon’s grapes had been abandoned. He leaned over, bowing to the Lord up above and closing his eyes. He folded his hands together in prayer.

“Dear Lord above. Please forgive me for my sins of today. I almost gave into one of the deadly sins, and for this, I have immense guilt,” He paused, guilt tugging at his heart. “I want to accomplish this for you. I want Roger to be forgiven as I. He deserves to feel Your love, Lord. In Jesus name, Amen,” he trailed off. His eyes stayed shut. Simon was beginning to feel sleep overtake him. He unfolded his hands and pressed his head against the matted carpet.

“You will be saved, Roger,” he whispered.

 


End file.
